


Broken Promises

by angstyaxolotl



Category: RWBY, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adam Taurus Being an Asshole, Angst, Bisexual Blake Belladonna, Bisexual Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna Didn't Leave The White Fang, F/F, Older Ruby Rose (RWBY), Useless Lesbian Weiss Schnee, White Fang Member Yang Xiao-Long, don’t worry there will probably be a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstyaxolotl/pseuds/angstyaxolotl
Summary: For years, Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao-Long have been inseparable since they were taken in by the White Fang. Despite the iron-grip Adam Taurus has maintained as their leader, their bond has remained eternally strong, but when Blake discovers something that couldn’t permantly alter their world and that of those around them, promises begin to break and the fracture lines grow deeper.This is kind of a She-Ra AU, but there will probably be some plot changes, I pretty much just wanted to write some Catradora based angst. Feel free to leave constructive criticism, I’m fairly new to this writing business.





	1. Chapter One - Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months have passed since Commander Adam has pledged to make Blake regret her actions. Every step she takes feels like she's walking closer towards the precipice of something. Standing on the edge is terrifying, particularly when she doesn't know if she'll fall.

Broken Promises - Chapter One - Reflection  
  
I shouldn't be here, yet I can't tear my gaze away.   
The cool ridge of metal bites into my spread palms, leaving harsh red stripes that seem far too bright in the dreary rafters. Yang ducks, blonde hair flying behind her in a tangle of sparks, weathering Commander Adam's blows. Despite the apparent ease with which she moves, I see the light dew of sweat that is beading on her forehead, her breath escaping in sharp pants, a crease of concentration that is etched into her forehead. My heart bangs on my ribcage, trying to spike my limbs with adrenaline, spurring me to leap to her aid. Clenching a fist, I force my petty emotions to crumble back into my subconscious. Why can she manipulate these feelings so easily? Her smile sparks a warmth in my chest, I want to coax it into life but it is far too suffocating here, better to stamp it out now before I get burned, before I burn her.  
  
A resounding clang brings me back to the present, Commander Adam has finally unsheathed his sword, the harsh neon light dances over its sweeping blade. I try to repress a shudder. I can still see the terror flickering over the train driver's face, hear the air being split as it moved towards his trembling body. Yang balances her weight expertly, falling into a stance. Her shoulders are tense and her stance is strained. The Commander swings wildly. Yang manoeuvres away, the rush of wind caused by Commander Adam's blow tangling her hair into waves of yellow fire. With a final exhalation, she draws back her fist, fingers curled, and launches towards him. The punch lands squarely on his chest, causing him to double over, grunting in quickly-masked pain. I see his hands clench around the hilt of Wilt and Blush with a grim determination.  
  
'Yan-!'   
My exclamation is cut short, Yang looks up and I can see her eyes beginning to cloud with fear. The sword falls and I see my entire life reflected within it, lying on the knife's edge. Tears began to slip out of my eyes. Traitors that steal away from my heart and escape in hastily muffled sobs. Yang ducks, gripping Commander Adam's shoulders with a steely resolve. Her foot connects with his ankle in a reverberating crunch as she sweeps his legs from out beneath him, and he crumbles. Dust motes rise in swirling loops around his fallen body, illuminated as they dance around him by the harsh lights of the training room.  
  
The temporary energy that had seized Yang's body dissipates, and she moves towards him, extending a hand.  
  
'How was that Commander Adam?'  
  
Despite her attempts to wrangle her tone into something resembling impartiality, a note of triumph dances in her voice.  
  
'Adequate, Cadet.'  
  
His voice rings, hollow in my ears. Yang's shoulders slump. That innate light that seemed to flicker eternally within her, dims. She turns towards me, eyes seeking mine. Those indecipherable eyes were wild and blurred with choked back tears, I mustered a reassuring grin trying to force meaning into something so empty. What could I say to stem the tears brimming in her eyes? What could I do? The Commander's voice momentarily shakes me from my thoughts.  
  
'Cadet Yang. We need to talk.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'I've noticed recently that Sector 2 is low on recruits. When you've graduated the program, be prepared to leave.'  
  
Yang's eyes narrow, but the rest of her face remains as dispassionate as the mask she was gazing into.  
  
His words are simple, but I can feel them gnawing at me. This can't be real. Yang and I have been friends since we first met, since we first knew what friends were in the barren universe we'd been raised in. Hopelessness digs its claws into my back, whispering poison into my ears. His words send heat dancing over my body, the coolness of the metal beneath me doing nothing to soothe my mounting ague. Everything is becoming distorted, Commander Adam's mask morphing into a cackling creature, the red flooding from his eyes and seeping into the room, staining it blood-red. She can't leave me alone with him. She can't leave. I feel myself bargaining with some unknown entity who hangs in the shadows. Please, if you have any mercy, you won't separate us, we protect each other. I need to run.  
My grip has tightened to the point of excruciating pain, but I don't notice it. I can't imagine what is running through her mind. Yang opens her mouth, but the words are dead before they leave. Commander Adam inclines his head, before turning on his heel and leaving, his sword clanking against his hip. My friend, someone who I can't fully express my feelings for, is leaving. Yang turns and walks out, her footsteps echoing behind her. The sliding doors shut with a non-commital groan, and finally the restraints I had so meticulously placed against my emotions rust and collapse.  
In the dim darkness of the rafters, I held my knees to brace against the tears that seized my body. He'd warned me that this would happen if I'd continued being so selfish. He'd seized my wrist and murmured to me that he was the only one who could own my heart, that he'd saved me from the horrors of the human world. Why couldn't I have just been grateful, being friends with Yang is more than enough right? These lies I whisper to myself sounded hollow even to me.  
Eventually, emptiness fills the hole left by my sorrow. It hurts but it's something. A temporary solution. I needed to see Yang, I saw her eyes as he spoke, she needs someone. She needs me. With shaking hands, I release my hands from the rafters and land on the worn fabric of a training mat. I don't care what The Commander says, he doesn't yet have a monopoly over who I care for. I slipped through the doors, moving past the swathes of cadets that were clustered around the locker rooms. Noise swarms over me, snatches of conversation.  
'Did you hear abo-?'  
  
'No way, seriously?'  
  
Out the way, extras!'  
  
I try to push past the patchwork sentences, searching for a flash of yellow amongst the red and black uniforms of White Fang cadets. I just manage to avoid a figure who is pushing through the crowd.  
  
'Watch it!'  
  
The exclamation draws the attention of the rest of the crowd, who turn towards us, eyes ignited with the knowledge that something was about to happen.   
'Oh. Sorry.'  
  
'Be careful next time, kid.'  
  
I risk a look up at the owner of the voice and feel my heart stutter. I could see my face reflected back in an ivory mask, it was slashed with red stripes and layered, giving the disorientating effect of not quite knowing where to look. It was Commander Adam's ace in the hole, her name was often spoken of in awed whispers, yet no one knew her true name, only the one she gave when asked. Pitch.  
  
'C-commander Pitch.'  
  
'Huh, look at that, I'm famous.'  
  
This gained a few giggles from the crowd now surrounding us, hurried offerings made in the vain hope they would gain approval from one of Commander Adam's favourites.   
'See you around, kid.'  
  
Pitch turned on her heel, hair trailing behind her in inky strands. The swarm of cadets dispersed around her, but not before sneaking a few reverential glances at her mask, eyes wide and shining. It was a symbol of everything we wanted to be, a promise that we stored away and allowed to pulse inside our minds, driving us forward. I pushed out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding and continued to walk.  
A flash of yellow and red drew my attention, clashing with the surrounding darkness.  
  
‘Yang!'  
  
I yell, hoping my voice would carry over the waves of sound produced by the surrounding cadets. She turns on her heel and begins to scan the crowd, eyes finally landing on me. A smile blooms on her face, but it’s quickly suppressed when the speakers surrounding us crackle into life.  
  
‘Will all cadets please come to the training room for the final drill’  
  
The emotionless rumble of the speakers silences the surrounding groups who move unanimously towards the sliding doors. Each faunus is gripping some sort of weapon, long swords, axes, daggers sharpened to a thin deadly line. Watching the crowd move as one, creates the uncanny feeling of watching some great beast lumber after it’s next prey. I approach Yang and we fall into line with behind the beast.  
I feel warmth brush my knuckles, and look down to see Yang’s hand, calloused yet so soft. Continuing to walk, I allow her hand to snake into mine as we follow the amalgamation of weaponry and hatred. Though this wasn’t their fault, Commander Adam had told us of the evils of the humans, how they would kill us and everyone we loved without mercy. I was terrified of these anonymous killers, who lurked in every word the Commander uttered and I know they are too, even Yang, a human adopted by the White Fang would shiver at the mention of these monsters.  
Yang’s grip clamped around mine slightly as we approached the training room. Commander Adam was stood in front of the wheezing metal doors, Wilt and Blush at his hip as always. I resisted the urge to avoid his gaze and looked directly at the leering goat mask that covered his face. How could he inspire fear so easily? I’d known him since I was young. Perhaps that’s what scared me, watching the hatred slowly consume him until it was all that was left. Now he’s just a husk, an echo of spite. What did that make me?  
  
'Greetings cadets, this is your final drill, remember what we have taught you and remember why we fight, death is meaningless, death in battle is honourable.'   
I hastily repress a shudder that seizes my limbs. How can he speak of death so casually?' Now, the final drill shall commence. Don’t disappoint me.’ A smoke cloud engulfed Commander Adam’s form, swirling amongst the cadets forcing coughs and tears from our eyes. My vision blurs, the world around me swimming with indistinguishable shapes. A hand slips into mine, I feel the familiar bulk of Ember Celica.  
  
‘Can you see anything?’   
Yang manages to muster this short command before her lungs swarm yet again with smoke plunging her back into fits of coughing. I resist the urge to claw at my eyes in an attempt to remove the pain and survey the room. It’s a confusion of faunus, some swiping at each other in blind fury, others standing eerily still like they’re carved from stone, trying to wait out the pain. One advantage of having cat-like senses, I’ve discovered, is the ability to navigate your way through just about anywhere. I allow myself to relax, feeling my ears twitch as they receive a variety of signals. Cautiously, I push my eyes open and attempt to see if I can make at any more. Stepping forward I lead Yang towards the training room entrance, swerving to avoid the flailing hands of my fellow cadets.  
The sliding doors exhale as they open, and I gratefully fill my lungs with clean air. Yang blinks her eyes back into clarity and immediately assumes a protective stance. I follow her gaze and note that the room is entirely empty. A sigh of relief escapes from my mouth, disrupting the expectant silence of the training room. The floor is left uncovered, typically rife with training mats it now looks bare and exposed, rust running through the cool metal like a disease.  
Yang is still frantically searching the room, eyes scanning every corner, muscles straining for an ambush.  
  
'Yang.'  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'I hesitate, but then she turns to me and I see the fear gleefully working its way across her features, contorting them. Without thinking, I find a hand, my hand, reaches over to run fingertips over the ridges of her brows, the determined set of her jaw. I pull away, but the remembrance of what I just did hangs heavy in the air. Yang reaches forward, her fingers curled in hesitation.   
'Well done, cadets.'  
  
The Commander's voice is jagged and sharp to hear, and the approaching hand flinches back, fingers clamping into a fist. I unsheathe Gambol Shroud and locate the source of the voice, the entrance to the training room. 'You were always the most talented of them all, Blake, what a shame you have her dragging you down.' Anger douses my body, shockingly hot at first before cooling to quiet rage. Yang lunges forward without a cry of fury.   
'Leave us alone!'  
  
The Commander pushes Yang aside, striking her head with the hilt of Wilt and Blush sending her tumbling to the ground. Commander Adam sidesteps her fallen form and turns to face me. His mask is blinding, the red light seeps through the gaps, falling onto the floor and imbuing our shadows with a crimson glow. I look up and he's unsheathed his sword, the point curving into a grotesque smile.   
'I told you what would happen, Blake, if you continued down this path if you disobeyed me. Now, look what you've done.'  
  
With an inhuman calm, the Commander raised his sword. I watch as the sword burns with glowing malice, an image that is seared into my memory forevermore. It lands with a hollow clang, cutting through Yang's arm and into the metal. Blood mixes with the red light, shining as it escapes the place where Yang's arm used to be.   
'Clean this up.'  
  
Commander Adam nods to Commander Pitch, who seemed to have materialised from the darkness that fell on her body.   
'This isn't what we agreed, Taurus.'  
  
'Do you wish to remain a member of the White Fang Pitch?'  
  
A tremor shakes Pitch's voice, disrupting her cool demeanour.   
'You bastard.'  
Without another word, Commander Adam leaves, blood still dripping from his now sheathed sword.


	2. Chapter Three - Refraction

I'm sorry.

The blood that seems to eternally flow has seeped into my shoes, clutching them and marking them. An irreversible reminder. If only I'd been quicker, thought my plans through, denied my feelings. Then the ends of Yang's vibrant yellow hair would not be dyed with her own blood, then she wouldn't have to suffer my inadequacy. Commander Pitch moves slowly, like she's moving through a thick, viscous substance. I can only guess at what sort of battle is going on behind her mask. Funny how in the most earth-shaking moments, your mind focuses on the small things. Her undone collar, which quivers as Commander Pitch slowly applies a bandage to what remains of Yang's arm. The lights which flicker and stutter above our heads. The acrid smell of blood contaminating the air until it fills my lungs with the scent over and over again. No amount of exhalations will remove the slight stab of blood from my senses. 

Yang, I'm so sorry.

Without realising it, I've fallen to the ground, tears silently falling in a never-ending chain of sorrow. My hands have become stained with her blood. The pressure that had slowly been settling on me, now falls with all its weight and I collapse next to her, my hand closing around the empty space where her hand should be, this is all my fault. Commander Pitch finishes applying bandages and picks Yang up like she's insubstantial, a mere afterimage burned into this world. I urge my aching limbs to move, to follow her as, without a word, Commander Pitch exits the training room. But I'm too weak. I was always too weak. 

I could've stopped this.

After what seems like years, sensation returns to my body and my arms gingerly force myself off of the ground. Silence smothers the room, where moments ago Yang ha-. I close my eyes, welcoming the all-encompassing darkness in the hopes it will drown my memories. Instead, they flicker across my mind, burning in a horrific clarity. I see Commander Adam raise his sword. I see it slice through the air. I see blood, bright red mixing with the red lights of his mask. Revulsion digs claws into my stomach, causing my eyes to flicker open, trying to escape what cannot be changed. I move without thought, stepping into the deserted locker room, down the corridor. into the bunker. The cement walls seem to push down upon the fragile frames of our bed, close enough to crush us all. I hear a slight sigh as a drop of blood is absorbed by the floor and realise that I'm covered in her blood. A reminder. The realisation begins as an ache, quickly morphing into a burning, physical pain, and I have to wrap one hand around my metal bed frame to prevent myself from falling over. I can once again see Yang's fallen form. Wilt and Brush. Her arm. All my fault. A quiet cough cuts through the silent sounds of life escaping from the sleeping cadets. As I force my head upward, fighting the pressure which has draped itself across my shoulders, I see a flash of red. Standing by the door is Commander Adam. 

'Blake.'

Adrenaline grips my drowsy body, pushing it into alertness. My muscles flex and tense with expectation, both freezing me to the ground and urging me, pleading me to run. He stands for a moment, and then reaches one hand upwards. My body betrays me and flinches but he merely reaches up to remove his mask. He traces the scar that lines his eye, a Schnee Dust company emblem. 

'It hurts Blake. It hurts to see you with her.' 

Fear shoves any reply deep down my throat, buried it with all the other bitten back responses and unsaid words. 

'You know that it hurts me. Yet still, you do it. Take this as a lesson, now come, say you forgive me.' 

Something compels me to look up. His face is twisted, contorted and changed into something utterly unrecognisable. All I see is hatred. There is none of his promised love for me, it has been swallowed by something alien. His working eye is filled with tears, but I can already see a smirk curling its way across his features. With a sudden flash of understanding, I realise he expects me to forgive him, just like every other time. However, the energy to conjure excuse after excuse, to pretend like nothing is wrong is swiftly deserting me. A word doesn't even begin to exit my mouth before I've lunged at him.

Surprise darts across his features, sending waves across the lake of expectation he had donned before. It disappears almost as soon as it appears, and suddenly I can't see any more of his expression, only the glow of Wilt and Brush as it nicks the side of my face. I manage to parry, but it's sloppy and the contact between our weapons pushes my arm back down to my side. Seeing an opening, Commander Adam strikes with a barely contained eagerness, aiming for my side. I twist my body, exhaling sharply at the pain of the sudden movement, before turning to face him once again. I know I cannot win this fight. My hands are shaking, my lungs are already craving air in painful bursts and something has seized the Commander, he no longer cares. This realisation, instead of making me panic, forces my body to still with an inevitable calm. I hook Gambol Shroud's ribbon around my wrist and fling it forward. Commander Adam deflects it with ease, but those few seconds of his victory are all I need to make my escape. 

I'm running now, my footsteps jolting erratically as my pace rises and falls. My mind is a confused rush of fear, it blurs my vision so that the grey walls surrounding me seem to melt into one another, it feels like the ground is slowly swallowing me, soon I'll be engulfed by this place, made to stay forever more. The thought sends the jolt of terror I need and I claw my way through the never-ending corridor. 

The room I've chosen to hide in for the night is a practical one, medical equipment lies on stainless steel tables, glimmering treasure buried in a black sea. I gorge myself on healing medicines, taking anything that even hints at allowing me to revitalise myself. A small groan interrupts my scavenging, my intake of breath accompanied by a sharp clang as the plastic box I was examining falls to the ground. Pills and tools spill onto the floor, and I hurry to herd them all back into the box before the origin of the noise tries to investigate. My mind is all too willing to fill in the gaps as to who may be in the room with me, Commander Adam being the most prominent figure. As irrational as it is, I fear that I will soon feel the bite of Wilt and Brush digging into my flesh. Hand encircling Gambol Shroud, I approach the direction of the noise. Of all the things I expected a hospital bed was not one of them. The curtains draped over the figure who lies there makes them seem ethereal, the slightest motion disturbing the illusion. Part of me is pulling at my legs, whispering that I should just run, but as I reach a hand towards the curtain the thought that it could be her both repulses and attracts me. My mind made up, I seize the curtain and pull it back, and see a familiar flash of gold. 

She looks almost childlike with her eyes closed, all of her emotions safely sealed behind closed eyes. This gentle purity is a bizarre juxtaposition and it takes me a second to register who is lying in the hospital bed. The first thing I feel is a stab of guilt in my stomach, which twists into a tighter and tighter knot until I'm gasping for breath to stifle my tears. Gently, I sit on the side of her bed, my back to the remains of her arm. I grip her hand and feel the smooth in and out of her breathing stutter a little. Her eyelids flutter, and I force myself to remain still, if she wakes up now I would never be able to leave. Saying the words to myself, acknowledging what I must now do is almost too much, but I can't keep hurting her. She lost an arm because of me, I don't know if I could live with the guilt if she lost her life. She was always too good for me anyway, so brave and strong, I couldn't protect her when she needed me most. I whisper my apologies to Yang, promising her that I would be back, that I would save her. This words were hastily made plasters, made to stem the outpouring of emotions that were welling up inside, yet I couldn't help but feel some truth buried deep within. I would be back, one day, when he could no longer threaten us. I needed the cover of night if I wanted any hope of leaving the compound, and soon I found myself leaving the room. 

'Blake.' 

Ears pricked, I turn back to where Yang lies. Her lips can barely form the words and I relax, she's still asleep. 

'I'll see you again, Yang,' 

It's all I can manage without crumbling and I prise myself away from the room and back into the corridor. Security cameras now bathe the walls with a sickly green light, swivelling with a frantic intensity, evidently, the Commander had sounded the alarm. Following the familiar steps of those training drills we had done over and over again, I avoided the sweeping lights, ducking into alcoves or activating my semblance whenever I mistime a movement. The first promises of the outside world come in a whispered breeze of air which passed by my face. I am so close. The knowledge that I was tantalisingly close to freedom was a guilty joy, I promised myself that it was better this way, now Yang could move freely through the White Fang without my hindrance. She could become the next leader, and then she'd realise why I'd done this. Every step away from her felt like a betrayal, but every moment spent with her felt like treason, now mixed with the guilt of what I'd done to her. I swivelled my head one last time to scan the antechamber for guards but found it eerily desolate. The halls which usually echoed with the thumps of guards as they moved, each step accompanied by the bewitching jingle of their assorted weaponry was now silent. Only an almost imperceptible beeping remained, first only a minor annoyance but slowly rising in pitch and fervour until I could no longer ignore it. Commander Adam must have enabled a sort of lock-down, and as I narrow my eyes at the floor ahead of me, I see razor-thin lines of red light. Sensors. 

One of the first things you are taught as a member of the White Fang is how to disable security systems, ranging from the pathetically simple to the impossibly hard. It's useful for sabotaging or blackmailing people who hold power over us, or who we see as threats. The one that was sprawled before me looked unsolvable. The walls surrounding it were uncompromisingly smooth and slick, an assurance that no hidden control panel was located anywhere nearby. Swallowing back a curse, I bend down to the floor and scrutinise the glowing maze. It was erratic, with no clear pattern and with a flash of surprise I see the lights flicker and change suddenly, one narrowly missing my foot. Yet another problem I'd have to face if I wanted to crawl my way out of here. The problems were rapidly accumulating at my feet, clinging to me with claws of doubt and trying to pull me back to my bed, where I could lie down, embrace sleep and forget this ever happened. My legs begin to lose feeling, transforming into two useless slabs. I was once again pinned to the spot, just like before. I see it all again. And again. And again. I beg and plead my body to move, my mind to stop reliving the awful scene. Crying for help is pointless, I can only wait it out.

Eventually, the numbness mellows, melting away. I can feel the shadows of tears on my face, yet I hardly acknowledge it. Instead, I once again take in my surroundings. A thought comes to me and I survey the ceiling looking for anything I could climb onto. A wary smile disrupts the path of dried tears as I see rows upon rows of pipes and other metal fixture, each one humming and pulsating like the internal organ of some metal behemoth. Trying to ignore the shaking in my hands, I grip Gambol Shroud and throw it upwards, aiming for a jutting piece of metal pipe. It falls just before it can reach its destination, now plunging with speed towards the jeering glow of the sensors. My wrist clicks in pain as I pull it back, trying to release Gambol Shroud from the grip of the sensors waiting to cry my doom to the waiting Commander Adam. It lands ungracefully on the floor with a clatter that reverberates in the silence, uncomfortably loud. I can see red light reflected in its blade, but thankfully no alarms ring, no footsteps rush towards me. With my weapon gripped in my hand, I try again, desperation augmenting my strength. This time the blade sails in a lopsided arc, digging into the metal with ease. A few experimental tugs on the ribbon confirms my hopes, this is it. 

I dig my heels into the wall and begin to climb, using the now trembling ribbon as support. Every slip of my feet, every sound clattering down the corridor renews my hearts frantic pulsing. I can soon see into the twisted insides of the large concrete creature I've called my home for far too long. Angling myself, I leap releasing Gambol Shroud. I have to twist rapidly in mid-air and even then I twist a little too late, the air stolen from me by a metal pipe. I'm so dazed by the shock, that for a second I don't realise that I'm falling. Immediately, I panic, scrabbling and heaving myself back onto the pipe before I can fall any further. Reaching down, I snatch Gambol Shroud and begin to gingerly walk my way through the twisted path of metal just underneath the ceiling. Occasionally a pipe hums as water passes through it, or rumble as dust, the lifeblood of this creature slides down. Despite being used to these sounds from the ground, allowing them to fade into the background previously, now every noise sets me further on edge. The path ends abruptly, plunging into the darkness. The ceiling is now pressing against my back, forcing me to crouch as I search for a way down. With a sigh of resignation, I realise I'll have to jump. This was not going to be pleasant. With one final inhalation, I step off the edge and into the darkness. 

For a second I'm falling, the wind howls in my ears, a reminder of the imminent impact. The blurred grey of the floor approaches ever closer. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of falling, I slip into a roll and stand up inspecting my arms for any bruising. A few blossoms of red have bloomed, now topped with dust from my fall. Standing in the doorway, I feel the call of the outside world, that world of fantasy that I'd dreamt of in my childhood. I realise that once I step over this threshold, I can never turn back. I can never harm Yang again. I will never see him again. These thoughts cause me to move instinctively, sprinting across the compound, climbing the fence, crashing into a clearing encompassed by trees. My adrenaline has finally drained from my limbs, darkness swarms my vision as I collapse.


	3. Chapter Four - Seperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake has finally stumbled out of the White Fang's grasp, however as she lies vulnerable on the floor of the forest, has she moved out of the frying pan and into the fire?

  
A quivering hum pulls me back into consciousness. It wavers and flutters with a shocking fragility, I scan the forest for the source and settle upon a small curved figure perched on a tree branch. With tiny claws gripping the bark, this minuscule, insignificant creature releases its song into the silence of the forest. Somehow it's comforting. I feel a nostalgic pang for something I've never experienced, yet speaks to me on a higher level. The slow shaking of my limbs as they startle into life is enough the cause the creature to take flight, pulsing through the air with tiny brown wings. A childish, small part of me wishes to call the creature back, the darkness shifting among the shadows growing with my fears. Then I remember Yang, alone in a sterile bed. I can't allow myself any sympathy, not when I left. Then again, she is better off without me. All I've done is cause her pain. She could easily rise in the ranks of the White Fang, and now that I'm gone, the Commander has to forgive her. They're weak barriers to the overwhelming wave of emotions that I can't quite identify, but they'll suffice for now. My feet tangle themselves around each other as I attempt to stand up, and I spend a moment trying to disentangle and steady myself. Around me, I identify something I'd seen in many a training scenario. A forest surrounds me, bark twisted and curled into grimaces, roots tugging at my feet, wind shaking the leaves off of trees. However, this forest is entirely different from that I'd seen in the simulation. There was no noise in the simulation, nor those weird creatures who I occasionally spot crooning amongst the branches. The trees seem eternal, stretching on forever and greedily hiding the horizon from my anxious gaze. Suddenly my ears pick up on a low humming, different to that of the creatures in the trees. It builds in pitch and volume as I continue to move forward. Just as the noise reaches painfully high levels, a bright flash of light causes me to recoil. My vision fades to black, and years of surveillance training are activated. My ears swivel, searching for any treasonous sounds, eager to unmask a potential attacker. My body slips into the all too familiar defensive stance, for a moment it feels like I've shrugged on a blanket of safety, then the memories prime their venom.  
  
I'm there again, watching from afar. Yang's recumbent form lies completely defenceless, her hair haloed around her head. She looks deceptively peaceful. Then he appears, shadows darkening the room, the crimson slits in his mask flashing with bloodlust. I know that my limbs aren't frozen, I could move. The shadows curl into monsters. The clacking of the claws, snapping of the teeth causes my heart to stutter. I'm defenceless, helpless and totally at fault. Wilt and Blush falls, and Yang's arm is once again carved in half. I scream and scream and scream. The ringing in my ears won't stop. I've caused this. All the pain I've caused her is unforgivable. The shadows twist and writhe in euphoric agony, red blood curling from their maw, spreading and cloaking my vision.   
  
'Blake.'  
'Y-yang?'  
  
My heart sinks, it's not Yang. Whoever is speaking to me has a voice that is lilting and light, like glass that could so easily fracture. Yang's voice is always filled with barely contained emotion, bursting and pushing at the seams. Their voice fades away and the silence forces itself into my ears, dead and void. A jolt of fear racks my body as solitude falls like ash over my shoulders. I don't know how long I lie there, time seems to stop rendered dead by the lack of any sounds of living but it slowly pushes into motion as a noise finally fractures the silence. Footsteps punctuate the voice as it approaches, growing harsher and more tangible the closer it gets. Before I can fully register it, a glimmering robe is flanking the voice's feet. 'Rise, Blake.'  
My limbs attempt to rebel against the voice, it would be so much easier to just stay down, but something about the voice pulls at me, it's beseeching, almost desperate. It's the desperation that snags in my memory, a grain of grit that has successfully burrowed itself into my consciousness. What I see causes me to blink, once then twice, trying to register the warped reality before me. Flowing blonde hair frames a flickering face. The only permanent feature is the frozen-blue eyes that clamp my gaze. Everything else flickers and judders and changes, the robes that loosely clung to her frame now warp into something more familiar, her hair slowly darkens as if decay is crawling across her blonde waves, until I'm staring myself in the face. They look achingly familiar yet jarringly different. My eyes are still that unshifting blue, my hair is much longer and I stand taller somehow. 'Greetings, defender of this realm.'  
I can't muster any reply to the title that has been thrust onto me, so instead, I bite back any reply I could have attempted to fashion together.  
'Doubtless, this must be confusing for you.'  
I can't even bring myself to make a noise of acknowledgement. I'm entranced by the familiar stranger who appears before me. It's like everything I despise about myself has been smoothed out and smothered. She stands with easy confidence, no fear dogs her eyes. Her hair is beautiful, but the thing that prevents me from a reply, is the power emanating from her. I know instinctively that the creature standing before me could have saved Yang, could have stopped the Commander with ease. A bizarre sludge of hatred and admiration runs rampant through my emotions, so much so that I almost don't hear what next escapes their mouth.   
'Your world is in danger, the Grim are mustering forces beyond even my capabilities they will be undefeatable, unless I can find a host.'   
'W-what are you?'   
My voice is nothing more than a croak compared to the velvet eloquence of their words. The creature giggles, and hot shame pulses in my body.   
'I am what you creatures would call a form of dust, though something much more ancient than those cheap recreations you creatures crave.'   
'You are nothing like the dust I've experienced.'  
'Of course not, I am more than anything you could ever imagine, more powerful than any dust you have experienced. You may call me Argilla.'   
Despite myself, I find cool relief in this intimacy, it feels like I've been trusted with something important. My suspicion is suffocated in their elegant reassurances, my fear squished underneath their promises of a different future. Suddenly I'm very tired.   
'I need something from you, Blake.'   
The words ring with a slight familiarity, the juxtaposition that is Argilla consumes me with curiosity.  
'What do you need?'  
'A host.'  
My bewildered look quickly spurs Argilla into a more detailed explanation.   
'I require a physical form, if we are to stop the Grim from destroying everything you love and care for. We will have to merge, my soul inside your body, together we can end this centuries-long war.'  
'I-I don't know. What even are the Grim?'  
'Monsters, fueled by all the negative emotions that you creatures are uncannily good at emitting. '  
  
Argilla fixes me with her gaze once again. I realise that I want to help them, I would do anything for them. My thoughts move back to Yang, if I was the person Argilla is promising I could become with their influence, then I could have saved her. I don't have anything else to live for or lose, and the power they promise is intoxicating. I extend my hand towards Argilla, whose body begins to lose its form, becoming insubstantial as they crawl up my arm and into my body. My consciousness once again rolls away as I temporarily lose autonomy over my body, slipping in and out of awareness I see flashes of the power Argilla wields. The insubstantial shadows I can create with my semblance now move under their command, my limbs spark with new energy and I watch in awe as I leap easily through my surroundings. Just as I feel we are finally leaving the fear ad the roots and the darkness of the forest behind, a sharp jolting pain in my back causes Argilla to lose their grip and I'm slammed back into my own control. The last thing I see is a rapier dancing with runes and a red cape.   



	4. Fracture Lines - Prologue

It was a bitterly cold winter day when Commander Adam announced the next heist. Standing in the bleached-white walls of his office, I watched as he paced, face obscured by a glowing caricature of himself, complete with burning red eyes which seethed from their place buried in the mask. I found it hard to meet those eyes. His explanation was broken by the wheezing whoosh of the sliding doors opening. My heart pulsed slightly as Yang strolled into Commander Adam’s office. Her hair curled and contorted, flickering like sparks. Trying to fight back the urge to stare, stare until her image was burned into my memory, I watched as she strolled up to Commander Adam. I noticed the unconscious running of her thumbs over her treasured weapons, Ember Celica. Despite the bullets embedded into their knuckles, a violent warning, the way she often clutched at them were disarmingly childish.   
““Sorry for being late Adam, I had to polish Ember Celica, but I can n-“  
  
“It’s Commander Adam to you, cadet”  
  
“Commander Adam spat each word, like every sound he spoke to her was poisonous. Yang slumped slightly, it was almost unnoticeable, yet I watched as her innate energy dimmed, a suffocated flame. She sat in the seat placed next to me. I attempted a reassuring smile, but her eyes were fixed on Commander Adam. I turned back to see that dreaded mask staring at me with a burning intensity. The crimson that blossomed over the entire mask was sickeningly vivid when compared to the mild white that served as its background. Eventually, my gaze dropped, had to drop or else I’d be consumed by that eternally burning spite.  
“We will acquire this Schnee Dust Company cargo train, I’ve asked you, cadets, to assist me as part of your final drill, this is your choice to prove yourself.”  
Adam stood up, pushing forward two masks. One was black and white striped, small eyes glowing with malice. The one I found myself staring down seemed to hiss and spit with rage, a deep black with deep red eyes, like a creature possessed.  
“These are your new identities, Hornet and Black Cat. Treasure them, they will serve as a shield from the outer world who would rip you apart otherwise.”  
The grim reminder hung in the air, stagnant and tepid. Despite this, my heart jolted with adrenaline, the realisation seeping in that for the first time in 19 years I would finally see beyond the chainlink fence that surrounded the compound, keeping us between its claws. However, Commander Adam's words left behind a bitter sting that lodged into my hopes and poisoned them with fear.  
"You alright?" “  
Yang's words cleared the fog slowly rolling over my mind. She was looking at me, deep lavender eyes shining with concern. Managing to suppress my fears with a gulp of air, I mustered a small smile. “ "Yeah, just realising that we're finally leaving." "Well don't get too eager, doubt Adam will let us go for too long." Despite the lazy grin on her face, the slight tremor in her words clamped a fist over my heart. I wanted to comfort her. Since we were children, Yang had wanted to leave. I'd often catch her in the act of gazing towards the horizon, a slight smile on her face. She'd turn to me when I called, that light of hope still dancing in her eyes. I'd watched as that light had diminished from a flare, to a spark, to a flicker. Determinedly ignoring my hesitation, I took her hand. She exhaled sharply. "We'll be fine, we have each other." I mutter, trying to inject comfort into something that sounded so hollow. Yang looked at me, clutching my hand with an emotion I couldn't decode, maybe I didn't quite want to. "Thanks." The sharp slap of footsteps infiltrated our shared silence. Commander Adam appeared at the door, hand encircling his prized swords, Wilt and Blush.

Wilt and Blush curved in a deadly arc, slicing through the surrounding defence robots with terrifying ease. Yang dodged a bullet before slamming her fist into her attacker, grinning as they crumpled. Plunging my weapon, Gambol Shroud into the chest of rapidly advancing robot, I raced to help Yang. She welcomed me with a smile, ducking a blow before delivering with twice the strength, her semblance causing her typically purple eyes to bleed an angry red. The air was since smoking with gunpowder as Yang reloaded. I grasped the hilt of Gambol Shroud, cutting through one hunk of metal than the next. A sudden blow from behind caught me off guard. A robotic fist grazed my ear. I lunged forward but the android parried. My ear throbbed, pain dulling my senses and causing adrenaline to pulse through my body. With a final cry, I leapt onto the robot, slashing downwards. Seeing his ally approach Yang, I felt a rush of panic. Pushing off the now destroyed metal, I landed neatly, perched atop the square shoulders of the advancing robot. Falling into a deadly rhythm I propelled myself from robot to robot, leaving behind a tangle of wires that sparked feebly, echoes of existence. Yang downed an approaching enemy with one fist, smirking in satisfaction. "Thanks!" All I could spare Yang was a quick nod, rationing my emotions. Focus on the moment. Not on her. Commander Adam yelled something indecipherable, the sound ripped from his throat by the rushing wind. I deflected an approaching bullet, finally reaching Commander Adam and a looming robot. "Keep it distracted, I need time." “  
Experimentally, I slashed at one metallic leg. Not a single dent. Damn. A massive fist swiped towards me, alarmingly fast. All that was left behind was a shadow, my semblance activating without any thought. It was crushed eagerly, leaving nothing. Seeing an opening, I scaled the robot, aimlessly attacking anything Gambol Shroud could hit. It was a pointless endeavour. Dammit Commander, hurry up. My breath was escaping in sharp pants, my lungs clawing at my chest for air I couldn't provide. Finally, I saw the metal floor become stained with a familiar red. Commander Adam unsheathed Wilt and Blush with a harsh cry, I tried not to recoil at the spite that lingered within it. A curved edge of crimson light cut the once proud giant of a robot into something unsalvagable. “  
With a flick of his hand, he gave the signal. I murmured acknowledgement before dropping into the lower caverns of the train. Inside, the sounds of fighting were stifled. Instead, an unceasing hum of energy filled the air as the surrounding security systems blinked into life.“  
I moved without thought, relying on muscle memory alone, scratched into my mind by countless training sessions. Within seconds I had slipped into the engine room. Heat clung to my body almost immediately, like some gargantuan creature was breathing down my neck. Trying to ignore the gnawing discomfort at being confined, I moved around the contorted outcroppings of machinery, searching for the power source. The hum slowly began to rise in volume, leaping from a low level buzzing to an inescapable howling. I had to do this. Shuffling past assorted crates, each topped proudly with the Schnee crest, I located the power source. Within a glass cage, red dust sparked and flared, I watched, fascinated as slightly duller red dust was added from an automatically opening compartment. The dust ignited in a loud explosion, the flames licking the glass, hands trying to rip, claw, tear their way to freedom. Gently I reached inside the engine, curling my fingers around a fabric-covered hook, trying to avoid scraping the glass whose heat I could feel against my exposed arm, a promise of pain. With the beating heart of the train ripped from the engine, the train shuddered and slowed, coughing its death in a wheeze of emergency breaks activating. With a final lurch, the train stopped. “  
My task complete, I clawed my way up the metal stairs, desperate to feel the wind whip my face again. Yang was the first thing I saw. "Are you alright? The train stopped so suddenly I-" "That's enough, Hornet." Commander Adam soon filled my view, replacing Yang's anxious questioning. He outstretched a gloved hand for the dust capsule. "Good job, cadet. Now, we have one last problem."“  
Stepping aside, I noticed for the first time we were not alone. Bound by hastily fashioned restraints, the captain of the train looked at me, his eyes swimming with undiluted fear. I feel myself stiffen, suddenly everything is too hot, too loud. This can't be right. "Ad-, Commander Adam, please don't do this." “  
The struggle to keep my voice level is pointless, my fear exploits the cracks in my facade of level-headedness. Adam unsheathes Wilt and Blush, ignoring my hastily stuttered plea, he approaches the captain. I wanted to scream, this was wrong, but a thick blanket of fear clogs my throat, leaving only a whisper. I could only watch as he raised his arm. I hadn't realised Yang was beside me until I felt her hand grip my shoulder. "Adam. Stop."“  
He turns, head cocked in a bizarre parody of confusion. "This man works for a company that perpetuates the suffering of Faunus and while I'm sure that's not something you'd understand Hornet, it means he needs to pay his debt with blood."“  
Rage coursed through my veins.How. How could he kill an innocent man for no reason but hatred? The person I was before, she would have bayed for his blood, but now I'm tired of the endless killing. Change is not enacted through bloodshed, its enacted through statements and discussion. Before hesitations could freeze my limbs, I had jumped between Wilt and Blush's target. With a speed that bordered on desperation, I unsheathed Gambol Shroud and cut through his bonds. His footsteps as he sprinted away was the only sound for a long time. "You'll regret that, cadet."

**Author's Note:**

> W O W this took much longer than I expected. Apologies in advance for any errors, I wrote most of this in a sort of creative stupor in which I was seized with the desire to just write and write and write! Things are getting pretty interesting if I do say so myself. Be on the lookout for two new characters very soon ;))))


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